NOVEL NEXT Chapter 49: Sprites (1)
"Hurry up, you lot! We haven't got all day!"
Before the youths could process the headmaster's abrupt disappearance, the sprites flitted impatiently above them. High-pitched squeals rang through the air as an orange sprite zipped under the legs of several unsuspecting students.
"Geh!"
Michael's eyes darted to Melody, who moved with startling speed. In a single, fluid motion, she snatched the orange sprite from the air and brought it up to eye level with deadly precision. Michael was about to ask what she was doing when a shiver crawled up his spine.
"Were you trying to look up my dress?" Her voice was cold—each word carrying the bite of an arctic wind.
"N-N-No! I'd never!" The orange sprite's face contorted in horror, clearly not expecting to be caught by a mere student.
Now that it was trapped, Michael could study it more closely. It was humanoid in shape, with delicate, dragonfly-like wings sprouting from its back. A flower-shaped cap—its petals inverted—rested on its head, a small green stem protruding from the center.
Its features were alien yet oddly familiar, similar enough to humans that their expressions were readable, but not quite the same. Paired with their sharply pointed ears, the effect was otherworldly.
"I'm sorry, m'lady," came a gentle voice. The purple sprite hovered nearby, bowing gracefully in midair. "Ranga here has a tendency to be… mischievous. Would you be so kind as to forgive him this once?"
Melody didn't respond right away. She pinned the orange sprite—Ranga—with a withering glare. "If it happens again, I won't hold back." She released him, her voice still edged with frost.
"T-Thank you, m'lady! It won't happen again!" he stammered, retreating several feet before daring to breathe freely.
The purple sprite offered her own thanks before zipping over and smacking Ranga smartly on the head. He yelped in pain, instantly cowed under her reprimand.
Michael, who had been quietly observing from the side, felt his horizons widen. It was the first time he had ever seen a sprite, though his mother had once told him tales of such creatures.
Sprites, as he recalled, were playful tricksters, delighting in pranks at others' expense. They were naturally attuned to magic, their magical strength reflected not by rings like human mages, but by the color of their bodies.
Seeing the violet-hued sprite before him, Michael felt a prickle of unease. A violet mage—whether sprite or human—had reached the pinnacle of magical mastery. Perhaps not quite on par with the headmaster, but undeniably within the same lofty realm.
"Alright, hurry it up! Time's a-wastin'!" The red sprite whirled in front of the students, then darted toward the massive double doors at the far end of the room.
The youths sprang into motion, following the sprites into an adjoining hall. There, a grand stone staircase stretched upward, wide enough for two carriages to pass side by side.
"This is one of three staircases within the castle," the violet sprite announced, her voice carrying easily to the entire group. "This one leads to the dormitories and staff quarters for all who attend the academy."
They climbed the long staircase, their footsteps echoing faintly off the stone walls, until they reached the first landing. A heavy wooden door stood on either side, and another flight of stairs wound its way upward toward the second floor.
"This is where we split up," the violet sprite announced, shooing several of the other sprites toward the nearest door.
"Alright, you lot," the orange sprite barked, "white, yellow, orange, and red—follow us!" He zipped toward the heavy door but stopped just short of it, hovering in midair.
"Well? What are you waitin' for? Open the damn thing!"
Michael bit back a laugh at the impatient little creature. From the group of a hundred students, more than half followed those four sprites through the nearest door, leaving around thirty behind.
The blue, green, and violet sprites remained with those who stayed. Even without recognizing everyone, it was obvious these were the students with the best examination results.
Melody was among them, as were Braydon and the commoner teen with the red ring Michael had noticed outside the academy earlier. A few others lingered as well, some sending him the occasional sharp glare.
The violet sprite took the lead, gliding toward the other door. With a flick of magic, it swung open.
"Each floor has dormitories for its own year level," she explained, hovering before them. "Since you're first-years, you'll be on the first floor. Each year, you'll move higher—closer to the top."
Michael nodded. It made sense… though he couldn't help but wonder what made the higher floors so special. Was it more space? Better facilities? Luxuries reserved for the senior students?
"Miss Sprite," Braydon piped up, excitement lacing his voice, "is it true Arcadia has its own mana spring at the top of the tower?"
Michael's head turned sharply. Mana spring? Surely not…
From what he knew, mana springs were sparse, naturally occurring wells of power connected to the ley lines. They formed only at specific ground points and couldn't be relocated—certainly not lifted to the top of a tower.
"It's not a mana spring," the violet sprite corrected. "It's the Aetherheart."
Michael's heart gave a sudden, heavy thump.
"Aetherheart? What's that?" he asked before he could stop himself.
The question seemed to draw more than a few glares his way.
"Best not to pry on your first day, kiddo," the green sprite said, swooping around his head like an obnoxious fly. "All you need to know is it works like a mana spring—feeds the whole Academy grounds with mana."
"I see…" Michael murmured, sinking into thought.
If it really works like a mana spring, then it must be some kind of mythical artifact… one capable of tapping directly into the ley lines and channeling power through the entire academy. No wonder they don't want word of it spreading.
After all, even someone as strong as the headmaster couldn't always be present to guard it.
Why am I thinking like this? Michael shook his head sharply, forcing away the stray thoughts.